Soup Kitchen
Just a bit more about the street ministry I have been getting involved in....
Every Sunday at 5pm, a few of us meet on a street corner in a suburb called Mowbray. We bring hot soup and bread, and the love of Jesus. There are a few regulars and often new faces each week. We give them soup and bread and then Rob gives a short word from the Bible, and we pray. Then we chat until it's time to head off for church.
They smell and wear dirty clothes. Sometimes they talk at me for ages in a mixture of English and Afrikaans so I don't have a clue what they are saying. Sometimes they shout. They will shake hands and hug you and cry on your shoulder without even knowing your name. They ask you to pray for them and I don't have a clue where to start. They all have a different story, most of which will break your heart. Some are more comfortable on the streets than anywhere else, and you can't see any hope of getting them into a safer situation. They carry their whole lives around with them, in shopping trollies or plastic bags.
Some know the love and power of God, and some don't. Some have such zeal for him, others harbour resentment and anger. Some follow with the faith of a child, others get hung up on minor issues that cloud their understanding of the Gospel.
I don't know how much of a difference it make to them that I am there. I don't know if they will notice when I'm not. But I know that everytime I talk or laugh with them, or give them warm food, I am saying that God gives a damn. That He places value on them. That His love extends to them, even in the darkness of their situation. And I do that even if He is the only one who sees.
" 'For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.' "
"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.' "
Every Sunday at 5pm, a few of us meet on a street corner in a suburb called Mowbray. We bring hot soup and bread, and the love of Jesus. There are a few regulars and often new faces each week. We give them soup and bread and then Rob gives a short word from the Bible, and we pray. Then we chat until it's time to head off for church.
They smell and wear dirty clothes. Sometimes they talk at me for ages in a mixture of English and Afrikaans so I don't have a clue what they are saying. Sometimes they shout. They will shake hands and hug you and cry on your shoulder without even knowing your name. They ask you to pray for them and I don't have a clue where to start. They all have a different story, most of which will break your heart. Some are more comfortable on the streets than anywhere else, and you can't see any hope of getting them into a safer situation. They carry their whole lives around with them, in shopping trollies or plastic bags.
Some know the love and power of God, and some don't. Some have such zeal for him, others harbour resentment and anger. Some follow with the faith of a child, others get hung up on minor issues that cloud their understanding of the Gospel.
I don't know how much of a difference it make to them that I am there. I don't know if they will notice when I'm not. But I know that everytime I talk or laugh with them, or give them warm food, I am saying that God gives a damn. That He places value on them. That His love extends to them, even in the darkness of their situation. And I do that even if He is the only one who sees.
" 'For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.' "
"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.' "
posted by Susie at
8:32 AM
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